


Hang in There Paul

by HeadlessLennon



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Beheading, Complete Story, Decapitation, Fetish, Foot Fetish, Gay, Hanging, John Lennon - Freeform, Kinky, M/M, McLennon, Murder, Necro, Necrophilia, Piss Fetish, Snuff, The Beatles - Freeform, Wound Fucking, consenual murder, consenual necrophilia, dead paul McCartney, paul mccartney - Freeform, very little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadlessLennon/pseuds/HeadlessLennon
Summary: It was a mutual agreement. Paul wanted to be killed and used, and John wanted to kill and fuck, it was meant to be. Today the day finally came where their plan came into placePlease don’t read if this stuff bothers you I don’t want to upset anyone 🥺DONT DO ANYTHING IN HERE IRL!!! I DONT CONDONE ANY OF THIS!!!
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney, McLennon - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 01

**Author's Note:**

> TW: BLOOD ( a little), NECROPHILIA, DEATH, HANGING, BASICALLY JUST READ THE TAGS
> 
> I can’t figure out italics 😀

"Rope rope rope rope I need to buy a rope," The words repeated over and over in John's head. He and his boyfriend Paul had been planning this for weeks and tomorrow they were finally going to do it. Tonight was for practice, tomorrow was the actual act of hanging.

He strolled down the store aisle, looking for any rope long enough. The poorly lit aisle didn't help him. Their house had everything else in it for this to be perfect, just not the most important item. Thin ropes, thick ropes, short ropes. The store seemed to supply every rope but the kind John was looking for. He wanted a coarse cheap rope. John's eyes fell on this simple rope. It was long, not too thick nor too thin. It will definitely support Paul's weight. 

John felt the rope with his fingers. It was rough. Pieces of the coarse rope stuck out in random directions, and would no doubt give someone a splinter if they were working with it. "Perfect," he mumbled under his breath. It would definitely hurt Paul, the stray pieces would dig into his neck, maybe would even make him bleed. "He will love this." 

It was £6.25. John could easily pay for it. The cashier questioned nothing, just a normal man buying a rope. John walked back out of the store and back to his car before feeling the rope again.

Just holding it in his hands John began to fantasize about what was going to happen. The rope tight around Paul's neck, his eyes red and strained, and god the sounds he would make during. He could just picture Paul thrashing around during it then finally going limp out of exhaustion from the lack of oxygen and finally dying. John could leave him there for a few minutes, just to admire his boyfriend's corpse. 

John stopped. He couldn't be getting horny in a parking lot for God's sake. Paul and he were going to practice the events for tomorrow, excluding the death portion. They both wanted it to be perfect.

When John finally arrived home, Paul was excitedly waiting.

He rushed over. "Can I see?" Paul could hardly wait. They'd been planning this for months, and finally got around to it. 

John held out the rope to Paul. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!” He reached out for the rope. Repetitively, yet slowly, his fingers ran over the rough item. Paul lifted it to his neck a gently rubbed it against his throat. "You did a great job."

John smiled. "Aw thank you. You're so sweet." He brought Paul in for a kiss. John was so grateful to have found someone who was into the same things he was, and to the same extent.

Paul's soft lips gently pressed against John's. His arms loosely wrapped around the back of the other man's neck. Even though they had both kissed eachother a thousand times, it never got old. The two men became lost in each other for a moment before breaking the kiss. Paul leaned into John's ear and whispered, "Can we start the practice now?"

"I- oh!! Yes of course." He briefly forgot. "Could I have the rope?"

Paul took his arms off of John and handed him the rope.

He started fiddling with the rope, thoughts filling his head. "I'm torn between just hanging you and letting you slowly choke and die or just making you jump off a chair or something so that your neck breaks." It felt silly saying these things out loud, like he was a psychopath or something.

"I'd like the first option." Paul said. "More of a show for you."

"I know we've discussed this a bit but what happens after you die?" John had ideas of what he wanted but truly this was up to Paul- it was his body afterall.

He thought for a moment. "You can do anything you'd like afterwards."

"Anything?"

"Anything... I quite like the idea of you using my body after I'm gone." Paul got closer to John and pressed his hand against the other man’s crotch. “Hard already?” He commented. “You’re disgusting, aren’t you. You just want to fuck my corpse.”

John’s tough act was slowly breaking. “Y-yes.” Shit I’m supposed to be the dominant one

Paul’s pressed roughly into John’s crotch- and quickly too, causing a mix of a moan and yell to come out of John’s mouth.

“Paul… please.”

He smiled. “I’m only being mean. One last tease?” Paul walked over to the door that led to their basement. He turned the doorknob, took a quick glance back at John, and walked down the stairs. The old house creaked behind him with each step.

John could see Paul slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he walked down. Of course John followed him, rope still in hand.

The basement was unfinished. The floor was cold concrete and the walls a very dull grey. On the ceiling there was some sort of pulley system installed by Paul last month after he suggested being hung. It needed more rope but because of it John wouldn’t have to struggle to pull Paul’s full weight up into the air.

Paul had his shirt crumpled up in his hands. “There’s a ladder over there that you can use to put the noose up.” He pointed at the small step ladder that was in the corner of the room. He continued undressing.

The ladder was brought under the pulley by John. John then sat down next to the ladder and put the rope on the ground and began to tie it into a noose. This is the first time he tied one but a knot tying book he had bought earlier that week taught him how. It took him 2 tries before he managed a working noose. “Paul what do you think?” He held it up for him to see, and slightly tightened it to show it worked.

Paul- now completely nude (and clearly aroused), walked over to John thrilled. “John I want to do this right now so badlyyy.” He whined.

“If you help me set the pulley up we can have that happen quicker.” John offered.

The other man ecstatically joined in with helping.

The two worked together setting it up. It took a bit but the payoff was definitely worth it. John moved the ladder back to where it was and pulled the rope down lower so it would be easy to get Paul’s head through.

Paul got closer and stood in front of the noose, his hands clasped behind him. John’s hands rested on Paul’s hips. He leaned in and kissed Paul’s neck tenderly. Soft kisses traced upwards until the two’s lips touched. Paul’s hands unclasped and cupped the sides of John’s face. They deeply kissed once more before Paul broke it to say: “Screw practice I want to do this right now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Extremely sure.”

John smiled and reached around behind Paul to grab the noose and put it loosely around the man’s neck. The rope wasn’t tight, Paul could, at the moment, breath and move around just fine. “If you want to turn back please make an okay sign with your hand and I’ll let you down okay?”

Paul gave John a big smile. “I love you John.”

“I love you too Paulie.”

The rope tightened around the younger man’s neck, before slightly lifting him up. Paul’s feet were slowly leaving the ground, starting with his heel, then his toes following with being lifted off fully. All his weight was being supported by his neck, and the pure pain of it caused Paul to squirm. 

A choked cry came from his throat. There was too much pressure on his throat that he couldn’t manage simple words. Paul’s face started to change color, it went from a pink to almost a purplish red. A blood vessel had burst in his eye from the pure stress of everything. Another sound pushed out of the thrashing man; hoarse gasps mixed with almost a yell. His hands were unconsciously gripping on his neck, almost as if he were trying to claw the rope off. Paul’s legs frantically kicked around, almost as if he kicked hard enough he could touch the ground. His toes stretched out with the extension of each kick. But no matter what he did he wouldn’t be able to reach, he was nearly two feet in the air. Paul’s jaw clenched and quickly released. With another choking sound a small spatter of blood stained his lower lip.

John had tied the other end of the rope to a hook and had been watching Paul slowly choke out. He was slowly stroking his cock, heavily enjoying the scene that was happening in front of him. John knew Paul was putting on somewhat of a show for him, that is what they planned for after all, for Paul to just act out. The way Paul thrashed around, the way his cock stayed erect, the way his toes moved, the way his face was slowly becoming a sickly purple, it was all such a great sight for John. He could cum at any moment due to this, but he held back, purposefully slowing his strokes as life slowly drained from the dying man.

Every few seconds, short pathetic wheezes came from Paul attempting to breathe. Despite how he may have seemed, he didn’t do the “safeword” (which was more of a hand motion). Paul was deeply enjoying this fantasy of his come to real life. His mind wandered to what John would do to him after he finally died. He had no doubt in his mind that his body would be used almost as a sex doll. Precum was starting to drip from his little hard cock. A heaviness came over his arms and legs, a tired feeling. The lack of oxygen was starting to get to Paul. His movements slowed, and continually did until he stopped moving. Only the faint sound of short struggling breaths let John know Paul was still alive.

Paul’s eyes bulged out a little, both of them also bloodshot. His head leaned forwards slightly, as he was too tired to hold it up anymore. From the neck down he certainly looked dead, his hold body was limp, besides his penis of course. The man stayed erect the whole time, no doubt from the immense enjoyment he felt from being hung. His feet pointed towards the ground, and his hands were at his side, relaxed. There was no doubt he would be dead soon.

John could barely contain himself. He had to stop touching himself, he would’ve surely cum quickly at this sight. “Paul, god if only you could see yourself right now.” He mumbled under his breath.

The dying man must’ve heard, because the corner of his mouth slightly moved into a smile, a faint one, but still a smile. He didn’t have the energy to move anymore. 

John waited patiently for Paul to finally die. He’ll miss Paul surely but this was something they both wanted. John would use Paul’s body until it wasn’t possible anymore. If one hole gets ruined, John could always fuck another. If all get ruined? John would make another. He could use Paul until he was starting to clearly decompose. John hadn’t thought of the what to do afters, but he can think of that when the time comes.

Paul suddenly became more relaxed. His eyes stopped moving frantically, but still fixed on John. There was a sound of liquid hitting the ground, piss, John noticed. With all of Paul’s muscles relaxed there was nothing holding anything back anymore. The urine made a decent sized puddle under him, and as the stream died down, left some to dribble down his leg. 

John got up to see if Paul had died (although he was quite sure of it). With one hand he grabbed Paul’s wrist. His first two fingers pressed against Paul, looking for any sign of a pulse. 

But there wasn’t one. And John was happy.

John reached up to touch Paul’s face. The gross red/purple color it had taken on made John want to take the man down. But for good measures, John left him up. He kneeled down at Paul’s feet, ignoring the piss that seeped onto the front of his pant legs, and began to feel the top of one of Paul’s feet with delicate fingers. Feeling the perfect curvature of where the foot met his toes. John kissed it softly. He placed kisses down to Paul’s toes, lifted the foot up, and gently moved his tongue up the underside of the toes. His hand caressed his heel, and with his thumb leading he moved upwards. There was a saltiness from the few drops of piss, but he didn’t mind one bit. This was just how he pictured everything. Paul was beautiful, with his pale body illuminated by the warm lights of the basement. John stopped, He had an idea.

He moved his mouth off. With one foot in each hand, John placed them against his cock and began to make them stroke him. His pace started out slow, just to get used to having to hold Paul’s feet. But soon John got a hang of it and began to go quicker. A moan escaped his mouth. God this is so much better than when Paul was alive. He pushed the feet harder against his cock, providing almost a tighter sensation. Paul had the most perfect feet, the toes a perfect length. On the longer side, with the length of each going down, forming a slant ending on the pinkie toe. John could feel an orgasm coming, and while the thought of cum on and between Paul’s toes was amazing, he wanted to cum in the man, not on him first.

Paul was surely dead. There was no doubt about it now. There was no pulse, no movement, and John was thrilled. It was time to take him down, not fully at first though. 

He walked to the hook that the end of the rope was wrapped around. With one hand he held the rope tightly, and with the other he unwrapped it. The rope almost slipped out of his hand, but he was able to catch it and slowly let Paul down. The dead man was dropped until his knees were level to the ground, that’s where John retied the rope back on the hook.

Paul’s mouth was slightly agape, inside a swollen tongue layed. It was bleeding, staining Paul’s teeth a bright red. 

“Aw sweetheart did you bite your tongue?” Whispered John, with his thumb in cover of Paul’s mouth, opening his lips to the side. His hands pulled Paul’s tongue out of his mouth so he could look at the cut. John let go of the tongue and held his cock in his hand. He rubbed it against Paul’s lips, smearing a mixture of blood and saliva along the front of his face. The noose held him up, and from a distance it would’ve looked like he was just kneeling. The height was perfect for John, Paul’s mouth was just lined up with his crotch. He decided to finally enter Paul’s bloodied mouth.

The injured tongue shielded John from Paul’s lower set of teeth, letting the man have almost a smooth entry. Almost. The top set of teeth lightly dragged against John’s cock. It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, but the euphoria of everything else practically cancelled it out. It was a different sensation fucking Paul’s mouth now, for instance John could go as rough and as deep as he would like and Paul wouldn’t hurt or gag. It was loose, there was no added stimulation from Paul, just a limp tongue and his teeth. 

John pushed himself in and out gently. His hands held firmly onto the sides of Paul’s head, pulling him in deeper with every thrust. The rope above him creaked with each movement. He had to be somewhat gentle, he didn’t want to break Paul’s neck. Well, not now at least. John pulled Paul closer to him one last time before cumming into the dead man’s mouth. He slowly pulled out, a trail of cum (which was slightly pinkish with the blood) connected from the tip of John’s cock to Paul’s bottom lip. Paul stared off at the wall behind John. Well, almost. One of his bloodshot eyes stared off slightly to the right. John’s cock remained hard though at the sight of this. Paul’s red discolored face, the clear indents the tight rope made in his skin. It was perfect. Better than John could’ve ever hoped. And Paul was his, they were still together, even with one of them dead.

John knelt down and placed his lips against Paul. His forcefully shoved his tongue into Paul’s mouth and began to heavily make out with him. The weight of John’s body pulled Paul’s body down, and with Paul’s head being held up by the rope, caused Paul’s neck to strain.

And with a crack it broke.

He shuffled back from the body, the sound catching him by surprise. This wasn’t planned, he wasn’t going to break Paul’s neck so soon. John stood up and walked to the hook again. He had decided in this moment to fully untie Paul.

The body slumped over, Paul’s head making a loud clunk sound hitting the ground. John got back down to him, and began with sneaking his hands under the rope that was tight around the man’s neck.

He held the back of the noose, the part that wrapped around at its base, and with his left hand he held the rope that was around Paul’s neck. He slowly loosened it by jiggling it around and pulling his right hand back. It soon became big enough to slip Paul out.

There was a red streak along the top of Paul’s jaw, almost as if the rope was still there, just invisible. His face was still a grotesque color, his eyes still slightly bulging out and bloodshot. 

John ran his fingers along the indent in Paul’s neck. He then wrapped his hands around Paul’s neck and began to “choke” him, this time with as much force as he could. John wasn’t allowed to truly choke Paul back when he was alive (Paul didn’t want to die by that), so he was taking advantage of this moment. He began to shake Paul more vigorously, a loud crack recurring every time Paul’s head slammed against the cement floor. With one last shove he was roughly thrown back to the ground.

John had decided to take out all of his impulses on Paul. He hung Paul, He choked him, now the final thing he wanted to do.

Behead, and fuck Paul’s decapitated corpse. Someone was going to find out about this soon, and John wanted to get everything out as soon as possible.


	2. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John hated it with every bone in his body. He wanted the aftermath, not whatever the hell this was. He surely would come to regret beheading Paul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaa wow the end. I think this chapter is a lot less well written but it’s written for me so it doesn’t really matter. Remember guys, don’t do anything in this story irl!!

John had gone into the kitchen, looking for the most perfect knife he owned. There were so many choices, a small short one which would make the process more tedious, a large dull knife which could be fun to do it with, a sharp knife serrated edge, which would give a rough cut but should make it a little easier. John didn’t care about it anymore, he already killed a man, his boyfriend, what difference would it make in the police's eyes on whether the man was cut up cleanly or not. John still hadn’t thought of what to do after this, maybe he’d use Paul a little longer until he really started to decompose. He couldn’t bear the idea of watching his boyfriend slowly fall apart.

The serrated knife was what John went with. It was 7 inches long, had a wooden handle, and was a nice steel color. The grooves would be helpful getting through the neck. John had no idea how to get through the bone though, that was his one worry. Perhaps he could just go through the break he made earlier. Yes, that was a good idea. 

He carefully walked back downstairs with the knife in hand. Paul’s body came back into view, still sprawled out on his back. There was a small puddle of blood under his head, no doubt from John hitting Paul’s head over and over again on the floor. John still isn’t sure why he did that, just an impulsive thing probably. 

Paul’s head was twisted at an awkward angle, slightly beyond what any normal person could do. The combination of being shaken along with having a broken neck must not have been fun, thank God Paul couldn’t feel any of it.

“Hey Paul.” John greeted the body. “You feeling okay? Your head’s bleeding. I wonder who did that to you.” He attempted to make some light of the situation. Ironic considering he caused it.

John kneeled down, then sat with his legs crossed near Paul’s head. He pulled Paul’s head onto his lap and began to move his fingers along Paul’s pale neck. The color in his face had slightly evened out with his body, but it was still reddish. John looked at Paul’s eyes, more specifically Paul’s eyelashes. He had the most beautiful eyelashes John had ever seen. John put the knife on the ground so he could close Paul’s eyes. He loved looking in them but Paul wanted John to close them after he died. 

“I don’t want to be kept stareing for eternity. That’s creepy you know?” Paul had said to John a few days earlier. John smiled at the memory. He’ll miss Paul. He really did love the man, more than anything else in the whole world.

With the tips of his fingers he gently pushed Paul’s eyelids down. He would’ve looked like he was sleeping if it wasn’t for the blood and the rope mark around his neck. John placed a light kiss on Paul’s forehead before picking up the knife again. He gently moved the head of the man off his leg.

John got up briefly, and resat down on Paul’s chest, facing his head. With his left hand pinning Paul’s head to the ground, he placed the knife against the man’s upper throat. He took a deep breath and began to push it in. Paul’s soft skin indented deeply before breaking around the knife. John shuddered at the feeling of the knife going in. This wasn’t something he took pleasure in, he wanted the aftermath, not whatever was happening at the moment. Blood pearled around the blade, despite Paul’s lack of pulse.

John exhaled and pushed the knife fully through. He brought it back up, pulling towards one side. Eventually John had sawed through almost half of Paul’s neck. A decent sized puddle of blood had begun to form under him. The blood was a nice deep red, not yet dried. It wasn’t too much, there was no heartbeat to pump it out, gravity did this work. John began to regain the erection he had lost while looking for knives. It was almost over with.

Now it was time for what John was most worried about, cutting through the esophagus along with his spine. He pushed down harder on Paul’s head and dragged the blade through his esophagus. The organ was tougher to get through than the muscles of the neck, and John had no doubt that the spine would be the hardest. Paul’s head looked like it was barely hanging on. 

Seeing this John had a small moment of “shit I can’t go back from this”. He had planned to take things slow, yet here he was not even an hour later cutting off Paul’s head. John tried not to think about how he just sabotaged the moment.

He cut the remaining bit of flesh (excluding the spine). It was almost done. John hated this. He wanted Paul headless yes, but the process of getting to that was absolutely disgusting.

“I’m so sorry Paul.” John said as he stuck the knife in between vertebrae and pushed down. He nearly got sick at the feeling it made under his hands. I can’t do this. I can’t do this, Kept viciously repeating in his head. Nevertheless he got through it, both his emotions and the bone. 

Finally, it’s done.

John got off Paul and sat for a moment. He needed to not think about what he just did. At least it’s over with now and he can get back to having fun.

He bent down and picked up Paul’s head, carefully, as to not drop it. It was heavy, but not too heavy. The weight was uneven, John had to hold it almost like a baby so he wouldn’t drop the head (which would be awful). He began to walk up the stairs from the basement, thank god Paul had shut the curtains and blinds around the house earlier, their neighbors were going to find out what happened in time, of that John had no doubt, but they wouldn’t want to see Paul’s corpse.

John brought the head to their bedroom and placed it on their bed. He put it down so he could get the body. The head was fallen on its side, one of the eyes slightly pulled open from the bed.

As for the body… it was much harder to move up the stairs and down the hall. John held onto it by its ankles, Paul’s arms dragging behind him. A trail of blood followed them. Paul’s upper back was covered in blood from his neck. John left bloody handprints on his ankles. Which at first made it hard to get a good grip but soon the blood dried slightly and became sticky, helping in the end. He propped the body up against their bed.

John once again had to sit down. He was out of breath from moving everywhere. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he leaned over to Paul’s head. He put his hand against the side of the head. His thumb traced the eyelids, dried blood flaking off and leaving deep red speckles.

The flesh under Paul’s neck was beautiful, roughly cut, but it exposed the inside of the esophagus. John took his hand off of Paul’s face and began to touch the opening. His long fingers traced around it before dipping in, he started with one finger before going straight in with three. John became overcome with arousal from this. Thoughts ran through his head of him fucking Paul’s decapitated head as if it was just a sex toy. Oh how badly John needed to do that. 

He took out his fingers and dragged the head by its hair to him as he sat up. Paul’s head rested on John’s lap. With one hand he held his cock, and with the other he held the head steady so it wouldn’t fall.

John nearly came from the feeling of the tip of his cock inserting into the neck. It was tight and slick from blood. As he went deeper into the head, he could see his cock in the back of Paul’s throat. His face was facing John, with the mouth agape, so it was easy to see. John held the sides of Paul’s head with his hands and began to push himself in and out of the head while moving Paul’s head up and down against the rhythm. He started slowly, still getting used to the feeling.

Blood coated his dick and slowly began to build up at the base. A few lines dripped down from the base and off to the side of John’s hip. A soft moan escaped his mouth; this was by far the best thing he had ever experienced.

Paul was being moved so violently his eyes opened again. Once again John was met with Paul’s blank stare. But he wasn’t looking at his eyes, he was more focused on watching his own cock thrust in and out of the organ.

“Fuck,, Paul.” John moaned loudly. Paul, of course, gave no response

John felt himself come close to orgasm. But he didn’t want to finish just yet, Paul’s head had already been used with John’s cum.

He carefully pulled out of the head. John’s hands shaking from his heart rate being high with being so close to orgasm. Paul’s head was lifted to John’s face. He placed his lips gently against the other man’s. They were motionless but John didn’t mind. It was still his Paul. His boyfriend. His love. Despite whatever happened to them that would never change.

“Paul I love you so much.” John murmured in between kisses. The palm of John’s hand was getting slippery from the blood. He had to put Paul down.

The head was put aside onto the bed, a little rougher than John had intended. Thankfully it didn’t roll off. That would be awful, John wouldn’t be able to deal with Paul’s head cracking open.

With everything going on John didn’t notice Paul’s body slump over back onto the ground.

“Jesus fuck.” Swore John when he finally noticed. He bent down to pull Paul’s decapitated corpse onto the bed. The utter limpness of him drove John crazy. When he was finally pulled onto the bed, he was propped so that his legs were spread wide enough for John to enter.

The tip of his cock pressed against Paul’s entrance. John didn’t lube it. He didn’t care, he was too impatient. Clinging onto the corpse’s hips John pushed himself in deeper. His cock roughly pounded into the other man’s ass with a nice rhythm. Paul’s body was moved against it with the help from John, causing the sound of skin against skin to fill the room. He was so tight around John, such a good whore.

John lifted off his hands from Paul’s hips and moved them up to the neck, to where John desperately clinged on to. His grip was so hard it squeezed some blood out of the wound. However, all that did was add to the red covered sheets. The “fresh” blood got on John’s already bloodied hands.

John’s thrusts started to turn sloppy as the need to cum increased. He couldn’t last much longer, he needed to release in Paul.

And just as John started to process what just happened, his thought was interrupted with an unexpected orgasm. This was the most powerful one today. John no doubt filled Paul’s tight ass with as much cum as it could handle.

John, truly exhausted, flopped over on the bed, avoiding the wet blood stains. 

“Holy shit Paul that was amazi…” His words trailed off when he caught sight of Paul’s head. “...I forgot,” He mumbled with a sigh. He looked away from the corpse. 

This was the one thing he forgot would happen, it didn’t cross his mind at all. He could never talk to Paul again. Paul’s last words echoed in his mind. “I love you John.” 

The reality sunk in. Everyone would know what happened. Paul had family and friends for god's sake how would they react? Not well, John knew. This is all his fault. Yes they both wanted it but Jesus what about roleplay or letting Paul down before he died. Was Paul’s life really worth a quick fuck? Did Paul want to go back last minute but didn’t have the energy for the safeword? John wasn’t sure the answers to anything.

What could he do now? He’s now a boyfriend killer, who fucks and mutilates the body. John did his best to hold back a tear, a few actually. He did not succeed. It had only been under an hour without Paul but it was enough to realize how badly he fucked up. He killed Paul. His Paul. His boyfriend. His love. The one thing that made life worth living. 

John solemnly got up, a much different energy than before. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to use Paul for days until he became decayed. Of course then he shouldn’t have beheaded him so soon.

John’s mind was exploding with thoughts. He didn’t know what to do.

He needed to report himself to the police and get himself arrested as soon as possible. He couldn’t bear to see Paul’s body again. The grief overtook the arousal. 

The door was loudly shut behind him as he sped walked away from it. As he got closer to the phone he sprinted over and quickly rang 112.

He didn’t even let the operator speak before revealing himself. “I killed my roommate.” Close enough.

John patiently waited for the police to arrive after finishing the call. This was the end for him.

And he embraced it with open arms.


End file.
